


Our Song

by iamconfounded



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:39:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2132256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamconfounded/pseuds/iamconfounded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What exactly happens when choreography gets developed in Scott Moir's kitchen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can"t be the only one wondering about this, can I? Thanks to [iaimtomisbehave](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iaimtomisbehave/pseuds/iaimtomisbehave) for the encouragement to actually post this!

When he opened his door to Tessa’s smiling face on his doorstep, Scott thought briefly that there might be no better sight. He ushered her inside, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Dinner’s almost ready. Grab a seat. Wine?” he asked. Tessa nodded as she followed him in to the kitchen. “What are we having?” she asked, peering over his shoulder at the steaming pots on the stove.  
“A new pasta recipe. I haven’t made it before, so no promises on the results,” Scott replied. “Didn’t I ever tell you that food other people cook for me is my favourite kind?” Tessa replied, smiling. “Can I do anything to help?”

“You could open the wine,” Scott replied. They puttered quietly together over the last few details, and Tessa sat down at the table, tucking her leg underneath her. It made her look younger than her 24 years.

He put her plate down with a flourish as Tessa smiled up at him. He flopped down opposite her and reached over to fill her wine glass. Tessa put a bite of pasta in her mouth, closing her eyes and let a small groan escape her lips. “God I love carbohydrates. Why can’t they be good for me?” she lamented. Scott smiled, “I know. I want to live in a universe where beer and pasta are the base of the food pyramid.”

“If there is room for chocolate as a staple food group you can count me in,” Tessa laughed. They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments until Scott picked up his glass, “So…we need to decide what our new ex is going to be,” he began, “have you thought about music?”

“Yes and no,” Tessa replied, “There are a ton of songs in my head but I’m having trouble narrowing it down. You?”  
“Same. Tell me some of yours. And if you say anything about Pride and Prejudice I’m hijacking your i-pod and filling it with death metal,” he warned.

Tessa stuck out her tongue. “I still say we could have made it in to a great program,” she glanced at Scott and had to laugh at his expression. “Okay, okay. What about ‘Say Something’? It’s a great song; lots of emotion to play with.”

“A little too much like the tone of ‘Stay’ though, don’t you think?” Scott asked. “What about ‘Hold you in My Arms’?” 

“You don’t think it’s a little too obviously ‘coupley’?” Tessa asked skeptically. Scott gave a shout of laughter, “Really? After the opening positions for ‘Stay’ you’re worried we might have an ex that looks too ‘coupley’? Pretty sure we already crossed that line,” he replied. Tessa’s cheeks coloured, “Good point,” she conceded. They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating possibilities. 

“I’ll get the dishes,” Tessa said finally, rising from the table. Scott sat, chin in his hand, watching as Tessa moved around his kitchen, looking very much at home. She bent over to put some dishes in the dishwasher and Scott caught himself admiring the way her jeans highlighted the curve of her ass and the long, slender taper of her legs. Heat flooded his face as he felt himself harden. Jesus what was wrong with him? It not like it had never happened before when he was with Tessa, but he wasn’t a teenager any more. And they weren't rehearsing Carmen. Nor was she wearing that white dress with no back and only miles of smooth skin and long legs. Or that red one she’d worn to their ET interview or…Christ maybe he was still a teenager. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, chalked it up to too many busy weeks with no girlfriend, and tried desperately to think of something mundane. After a few moments wrestling with his self-control he hit on an idea. “I’ve got it” he said firmly, walking over to the stereo as Tessa glanced over her shoulder. “Got what?” she asked, drying her hands on a towel and following him from the kitchen.

“Our song,” Scott replied, smiling. Tessa cocked her head and waited until she heard the opening bars, and her face broke out in to a huge smile. “Of course,” she said softly, “it’s perfect.” Scott walked over to stand beside her and they stood for a minute, eyes closed, listening. Over the last year this song had meant the end of a long training day; a chance to enjoy the feeling of being hand in hand on the ice; to remember everything they loved about skating together. When they had been consumed by the Olympic whirlwind and some days it was difficult to remember why they were even doing all this, this song, and the moments it brought them, had been an oasis.

When Tessa opened her eyes Scott was looking at her, smiling slightly. He took her hand and pulled her gently towards him, sliding one hand around her waist and tucking the one that held hers between them, resting against his heart. They swayed slowly in place, and Tessa felt Scott’s breath tickle her ear as he sang tunelessly, “And together we will flow into the mystic.” She could feel his heart beating faintly against her chest and pulled herself a little closer, inhaling the warm scent of his skin. She found herself staring at the small hollow at the base of his throat, visually tracing a line along his collarbone where it disappeared under his shirt, and imagined tracing that line with her mouth. The though caught her off guard, and she shook herself slightly to try to clear the image. “You okay?” Scott murmured in her ear. “Mmmhmm” she mumbled back, taking a deep breath to steady herself. 

She slowly moved her hand from where it lay on Scott’s chest to the back of his neck, twining her fingers through his hair. She gave in to her earlier urge and leaned in, flicking her tongue lightly along his skin, tasting salty and sweet. She felt his breath hitch and he stopped moving, dropping the hand that held hers to his side. God he tasted good. With an internal ‘fuck it’ she lifted her face to his pulled his mouth down on hers. Scott hesitated for a split second, momentarily shocked in to inaction, but then cupped the back of her head in his hands and deepened the kiss. Tessa pulled him closer with her other hand and felt the tension of his muscles under his shirt, the heat of his body intensifying the warmth pooling low in her belly. She could feel him, hard, pressed against her hip and a small moan escaped her lips. Scott had been maintaining a tenuous hold on his self-control, his senses overwhelmed by the smell, the taste, the feel of Tessa; but at the sound of that moan his control snapped. He cupped Tessa’s ass with both hands and lifted, pulling her as tight against him as he could. She responded instantly, spreading her legs and wrapping them tightly around his waist. Fuck he felt so good. 

Scott stumbled back towards the kitchen, Tessa still clinging to him, her tongue dancing in his mouth, her hands tugging his hair. He was so hard he hurt, and all he could think about was more; more of Tessa’s skin under his fingers, more of her mouth on his. He pushed her up against the counter as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Scott yanked her shirt over her head, and in one more second had her bra undone and flung it aside. He stepped back to look at her, half naked and sitting on his kitchen counter, her lips red and swollen and her hair tousled, and knew he had never wanted anyone or anything as much as he wanted Tessa at that moment. He crushed his mouth on hers again as they struggled out of the last of their clothes.

The first moment of feeling Scott inside her felt like the fulfilment of a promise; like one more way they fit together like puzzle pieces. Tessa pushed and writhed against him and couldn't, wouldn't stop. Even when he begged her. Even when she knew he was going to lose control. Scott was repeating her name like a mantra, “Tessa, oh god Tessa. Tessa, “ over and over again. She grabbed his hair, bit his lower lip, pulled him deeply inside her and breathed, “Scott,” in to his mouth.  
Scott heard his name come from her lips like a secret, and he was lost.


	2. Chapter 2

He hadn’t wanted her to go. 

He’d come to his senses slowly, feeling warm and love-drunk and like his universe had shrunk to Tessa-sized proportions. She lay stretched out mostly on top of him, and he relished in the weight of her body against his, the feel of her hair tickling his chest and the sound of her breathing. They lay silently for a while, her hand tracing lazy circles on his skin. Eventually, as if by some silent mutual agreement, they began to shift, collecting the clothing scattered around them. Even as they reassembled themselves Scott was compelled to touch Tessa constantly; a soft caress of her collarbone, a trail of light kisses peppered across her back, hair tucked behind her ear. When they were dressed Tessa slipped her arms around his waist and stood on tip-toe to kiss him softly.

“I’m going to go.”

“Don’t,” he murmured in to her mouth, “stay with me.” She smiled and shook her head, kissing him again and more forcefully this time. Scott groaned and pulled her tighter, recognizing the beginning of another slide into Tessa-induced madness. “If you’re not staying you had better stop kissing me like that,” he panted. 

In the end she’d left with a smile and a, “Talk to you in the morning,” glancing back over her shoulder to look at him as she made her way down the walkway. They had said nothing about what this meant. Not that either of them really knew, and it hadn’t seemed to matter. 

He hadn’t wanted her to go. 

He fell asleep dreaming of dark curls and creamy skin, her warm breath and her soft, red mouth; of the heat and silk of being inside her.

***

She woke with his name on her lips.

She closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of his name on her tongue and the memory of his hands on her body. After 17 years his name felt like a different word; his hands had felt both familiar and strange. But she found that she missed the pressure of those hands on her hips, her ass, running through her hair.

Part of her had really wanted to stay with Scott last night, but she had always been the one of the two them that needed to process her feelings, to consider what she wanted before she acted. Had she stayed she would have stayed lost in the whirlwind of sensations they had created together, unable to think clearly. Maybe she still wasn’t thinking clearly, but she wanted to hear his voice. It was probably too early to call but she dialed anyway.

“Hey,” Scott answered, drawing out the vowels, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Hey,” Tessa replied, feeling suddenly shy, “how did you sleep?”

“Good,” he mumbled, “better if you’d been here.” He yawned and asked, “What are you doing today? Do you want to have lunch?”

“Yes,” she answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice and it made him smile.

“How about the Root Cellar?” he asked. He wasn’t much of a kale salad and gluten-free sandwich guy, but he knew she liked it. Tessa’s smile grew wider, knowing he’d chosen that place for her.

“I’ll be there at 12. See you then?” 

“See you then.”

***

When she arrived Scott was already sitting at a table, examining a menu. She paused for a minute in the doorway to take stock of how she was feeling. She had expected to feel a bit embarrassed and maybe a little unsure of herself, but the truth was all she felt was…horny. 

Well shit. 

Had Scott looked this good yesterday? She noticed how his shirt hugged his arms and chest just enough, and thought about running her hands through his tousled hair. This was going to be interesting. As she moved towards the table he looked up and caught sight of her. A smile lit up his face and she smiled back, biting her lip and wrestling for some control over her physical reaction to him.

She was biting her lip. He wanted to bite her lip. That soft, red lip. 

He had looked up and seen her and smiled but seeing her felt like being punched in the gut. He was actually breathing heavily just sitting at a table looking at her across the room. What the hell was going to happen when he touched her?

They said hello and she sat down and pulled in her chair, her leg brushing his under the table. He inched closer so that his leg would rest against hers, watching her has she picked up her menu. He nudged her knee under the table and she looked up from under long eyelashes, bit that fucking lip again and stared at him intently. Her looking him like that made him hard, and he reached under the table, running his hand lightly up her leg. The maelstrom of his feelings was temporarily quieted by the appearance of the waitress to take their drink order, and Scott moved his hand from Tessa’s leg in an effort to get a hold of himself. 

Drinks and a little conversation and things started to feel a little less chaotic in Tessa’s head. Normal. Everything was normal. So what if Scott’s hand kept drifting over to hers on the table and caressing the inside of her palm? So what if she hadn’t moved her leg from against his for the whole meal? Everything was normal.

He didn’t remember what they’d talked about, or what he’d eaten (it had been green) but he had a catalogue of small caresses and looks and words that he was saving to mull over later. Later when he didn’t have her eyes to stare in to and her skin was no longer there under his fingertips. He was rubbing his thumb in small circles on the inside of her wrist when he felt her stiffen. He looked up to see her shift her gaze hurriedly away from their waitress who was standing across the room, smiling a little knowingly. Tessa pulled her hand away from his slightly and quietly muttered, “Can we go?”

When they were both out on the street she looked at him apologetically. “She was watching us so closely. The waitress. I looked over and caught her staring and smirking at us and…I’m not ready for any speculation about us. Whatever ‘us’ is,” Tessa babbled. Scott leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry T. Whatever ‘us’ is, we’ll figure it out. And nobody has to know anything.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in getting this up. Life interfered!

At some point there will have to be some actual choreography, Scott thought.

They had tried Tessa’s house (the rug in the living room was wool and he had the burns on his ass to prove it), a practice room at the rink (thank god no one had walked in), his house again (at least they’d made it to the bed that time), and frankly hadn't choreographed a single move that was appropriate for family viewing.

But when he was around her he was overwhelmed by her presence; he wanted to drown in the smell of her hair and the feel of her skin and he seemed wholly incapable of focusing on anything else. He was, frankly, consumed by her. There were moments when her touch seemed to trigger a synaptic overload; a flood of disjointed images that set his heart racing and made his head spin. The delicate hollow at the base of her throat; the gentle curve of her hip bone, her breath on his neck as she whispered his name. 

Every once and a while a thought would slip in to Scott’s head, unbidden. What would happen when they were on tour? He couldn't really have said why, but it was something he didn't want to think about just yet.

***

She was procrastinating. It was hands-down, no-contest the best kind of procrastinating ever invented, but it was procrastinating all the same. Tessa: driven, organized, “why put off to tomorrow what you can accomplish today,” Tessa Virtue was blatantly disregarding the fact that April was looming and she had never done anything less than 100% in her whole life. But the thing was this: Scott made her feel worshiped and adored and honestly she craved the taste of his mouth on hers and the feel of his hands on her skin. But they were getting nothing done and Stars on Ice was not far away.

“This has to stop,” Tessa groaned as she flopped backwards on to a mess of tangled sheets and discarded clothes. “We are going to take the ice in a month and will have to resort to making out with each other in front of thousands of people because we have no choreography.” Scott laughed, “We’d be a hit, T. There’d be line-ups around the block.” The pillow hit Scott’s face with a whoomp and he laughed harder.

“Not funny Moir,” Tessa chided.

So they made a pact, or a bargain with themselves or whatever you wanted to call it: two hours of practice (actual practice, not naked practice) bought them an hour together doing whatever they wanted. What they wanted was usually to disrobe as quickly as possible in the closest location that could reasonably be considered private, but sometimes they ate something too.

And it started to happen. That magic that they had always been able to create together started to happen and they were flying over the ice and moving together without thinking. Tessa hadn't thought than anything could feel better than some of the programs they’d skated together, but this did. This was their usual chemistry and synchronicity but with their movements; each one choreographed to mean something to them.  
They found their balance, mostly. It was true that Scott took a few liberties with her neck during some of the turns, and his hand placement on some of the lifts was maybe a tad more intimate than was strictly necessary, but the piece looked good and they loved it.

***

It took all of their self-control not to burst out laughing. They were watching Kaitlyn and Andrew demonstrate the choreography for the new program Jeff had planned for the four of them and were struggling to keep their composure. As Andrew ran his hands seductively up Kaitlyn’s sides Tessa glanced at Scott and he leaned over and whispered, “I guess we’re making out on the ice after all.” Tessa’s composure cracked and she doubled over, laughing. When she caught her breath she looked apologetically at Kaitlyn and Andrew who had stopped what they were doing and were staring at her, eyebrows raised. “Sorry!” she gasped, “You guys looked great, I just…sorry,” she said again, blushing.

Scott thought he must have some good karma. Nothing like showing up for work and the boss telling your job for the next few days was to run your hands all over the incredible girl you were currently obsessing over. Scott half-listened to Jeff walk them through the first half of the program, and reveled in pulling Tessa against him during the opening sequence. He chuckled softly in to the back of her neck when he ran his hand a bit lower than necessary on her abdomen during a turn and she squeaked adorably. He was beginning to think this might be one of his all-time favourite programs right up until Jeff described their ending positions. He and Tessa were to push away from each other and end up on the opposite sides of the ice, broken and sad. When they tried it for the first time they were half-hearted at best, and Jeff made them do it again. As they pushed against each other this time Scott felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He glanced at Tessa, and saw his own unhappy look reflected in her face.


End file.
